


The Three-Faced Joker

by Lawfuless



Series: A Myriad Of Tales About A Multi-faced Man [2]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Police, M/M, Past Character Death, Retconned world ending for GOOH
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-18 16:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7322272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lawfuless/pseuds/Lawfuless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Everyone always talks about the two-faced kings and queens... But one must always consider the Joker, which can have three faces or more.</i><br/>Everyone had moved on. Thought he was dead. But then whispers are heard. A possible return. A homecoming.<br/>Everything is new. Everything has changed. The stakes are higher, but the payoff... Well, it's higher than ever.<br/>Welcome to Steelport</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New City, New Faces

**Author's Note:**

> I know I left it in a shitty place, but come on. Some stories are meant to continue.  
> As usual, I own nothing, all that fun stuff.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To everything is a beginning. Sometimes, it starts anew after an ending. But some things are left unending. Some things have secrets lying just out of sight. But when is anything given freely?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only thing I own is the plot, to be honest.

There were many things one could consider when one was being attacked by a group of masked women. The first question could be 'why masks?'. The second could be 'why only women?'. But the most important? 'Why the hell can't this just be a regular gang fight?'

These questions, however, were not going through Gat's mind. More likely, it was the question of 'Is it sexist to go for boob-shots because those are the biggest undefended target?' and then 'Aww hell, it probably is. Oh well'.

The woman beside him, dressed in formal attire, easily blocked shots aimed at them with her metal parasol. Rose, or rather Rosalina, was apart of the Courtesans. She had been taken in by them at a young age but always hated them because they had killed her father. She had joined his cause as soon as he had arrived. News traveled about his work in Stilwater, and he'd quickly gotten recruits in the form of informants and gang members, as well as police who were fed up with the Gangs controlling the city.

The Courtesans ruled the prostitution and human trafficking rings, while The Mob owned the arms and arsenals. They ran their own island of sorts. They also shared a hand in the casino districts, often well fought over by them and their opponents, The Knights. Made up of the previous Host, and Kingdom, they had established roots in the new city, combining with minor gangs to build up rapidly. They ran drug cartels and often dabbled in blackmail and politics. They were only being opposed by the Saints. While all were under the eyes of the O.A.G.V. Officers Against Gang Violence, who often compared the Saints to a Gang, even if they were made up mostly of officers.

As he watched, a male leapt out of the shadows, dressed in a strange outfit. It was similar to that of the Courtesans, but it was that of a venetian jester, including a mask split into three faces. He drew what seemed to be an invisible weapon, as though he were miming a sword. He still managed to slice and dice with it. Blood dripped off the glass weapon, and speckled the pavement as he twirled through them. Before Johnny could run after him, he was gone.

"The same as before." Rose stood, replacing the cover of her parasol to hide it's true purpose and adding to her dainty look. "Whoever he is, he's got a talent for murder, an eye for targets, and the ability to do what needs to be done. Still, the Joker mask in an odd touch." She noted. She turned on her heels, then froze. "Johnny, be a dear and turn around, would you?" The masked woman intoned. He did so, and stiffened at the sight of The Mob eying them down, guns raised. Then one stepped out, catching the newly-made leader's heartstrings. A Man in a Silver Helm. Rosalina seemed to notice as well, leaning in a bit. "Friend of yours?" she whispered.

"Gat. How nice of you to finally stay still long enough that we can have a little chat. Please, come with me. We have much to discuss." The man intoned, beckoning them. They followed, entering a car with him. The goons entered separate cars and they took off to an unknown destination. The man removed his helm, and the charade ended. He looked like Kent in almost every way. But his eyes were a bright gold. "My name is Lawless. I once was an officer in this city until I tired of the inefficiency of the police. I worked for the military, and I knew how to end something. I quit. Joined The Mob. Got rather high into the ranks before being forced to leave by the main family. I took as many as I could. Apparently word has reached us about the Stilwater fiasco, and due to my appearance, I was assumed a relative of the late Saint. I can neither confirm nor deny such a thing, due to my own digging going nowhere. But my men raised me up in his memory. Pushed me towards his name. Told me to seek you out."

Though a mite heart broken, Gat slowly nodded in understanding. Such a simple mistake. Rosalina tilted her head, glancing around. "Still, why bother joining the Saints? You have your own operations working fine, do you not?" The former Courtesan intoned, head inclined inquisitively. She had a point, and he looked to Lawless, prompting a response from the ex-soldier, ex-cop, ex-Mob.

"Everything works better with bigger numbers. The fact of the matter is that what you have won't cut it. Our equipment is better, more advanced, and even we are just scraping by. By pooling resources, we can at least get a set of legs to stand on before everything takes off." The man pulled on his helmet as the doors slid open. Saints HQ sat before them, awaiting their return. A card was held out. "Should you accept, call me." The tinny voice intoned, and Gat took the card. Rosalina was already out and across the street, but Gat paused. He had a question he needed to answer.

"How close were you. With Kent, I mean?" he asked. But at the curt reply of 'Not at all', he let his hopes die out before he stepped on them crossing the street. Still, his hand wandered to his pocket, where a letter resided with those haunting words. "Dear Lieutenant Gat". Someone had to know something.

' _There's work to be done in Steelport. Go big, or go home._ '

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a start at least. Though, more questions than answered. Who is this Jester? What are the intentions of 'Lawless' and his men? Who sent the letter? And why did it lead to Steelport? To be answered soon. Ish. You know how this works if you've followed it this far.


	2. All The Kids Cried Out "Please Stop You're Scaring Me" (pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mind of a Madman hides many secrets. But few can hold onto their sanity long enough to understand...

There was a wall of pictures before the outfitted man. His masks gleamed despite the low light. The white faces showed a different emotion depending where one stood. To the left, a smiling face. To the right, a frowning face. In the middle was a partially angry face. Though, the bottom was missing to show the man's own face, painted to be white. It held a wide grin.

There were pins of every colour pinning photos to the wall. Each had their own colour.

Purple, a rich lavender, held up the face of Johnny Gat and Rosalina.

A mix of colours held up pictures of men in strange outfits, vaguely looking like a mix-matched military of old and new.

Black held up the pictures of a man in a silver helm and his men. One in particular was circled in bright red, frantically. A seemingly androgynous individual who looked a touch too much like someone trying to hide. Words were written beside the picture like 'Roots', 'Same Old Habits', and 'SAVIOR' in massive letters.The man grinned wider at this picture.

Pins of pink and red held up pictures of a variety of women in a variety of shots. Some looked like tea parties. Except for the occasional visible gun.

White and grey held up pictures of men and women in pinstripe suits and classy business-like attire.

The last was held up by orange and green pins. Pictures of men in uniforms. Usually in Raids. One of them in particular was aside from the rest, crossed out in red. A woman with darker skin and wearing a strange smile, similar to the Jester's own deranged smile.

"Soon." he murmured, stroking the picture of the youth. "Soon you will have to reveal yourself."

He took out a dagger, stabbing the picture of Johnny Gat. "...I'll see to it myself that you do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This won't be continued right away)


	3. A Reoccurring Theme

"ANOTHER FUCKIN' BOMB THREAT?! ARE YOU SHITIN' ME?!" Gat kicked a wall. The doors had been barred shut, and from the outside was a faint ticking sound. There was a sigh from the other side, where Lawless worked to get the bomb off the door so they could escape. "What's the time say?" he asked. He turned to the rest of the group. Dane was pale. Kinzie was leaning back, seemingly accepting the inevitable. Angel, a police officer who had joined him, had folded his hands in prayer. The pair of business women who had been looking into a deal with the Saints on resources hugged each other and cried. Viola and Kiki were merely innocents.

Gat stood up and cursed, looking around the room and analyzing everything of any possibility. He dismissed the tables, the computers, the chairs, and the curtains. Everything seemed hopeless. The time was ticking down. So he pounded on the door. "Get yer men outta here!" he shouted. No need to take their allies with them. At least going out in a blaze of glory was still fairly plausible.

Any further thoughts cut off as the window shattered. Which made little sense because they were too high up for anyone normally to reach them. The figure rolled in, standing up and shaking shards from his hastily dyed hair. "Come on! Come on! We don't have all day!" There was a ladder. A helicopter was hovering, waiting for them. The DeWynters wasted no time, clambering on. Kinzie and Dane were next, followed by Angel and then the kid before Gat hopped on, moments before the place went up. Luckily, though, he could see Lawless and his men down below. They were set on the ground once it was clear, the chopper flying off.

"You have a helicopter?" Lawless asked at the same time as Dane, addressing the man who had just saved their life. The man laughed nervously, rubbing his neck. "Uh, you could say that it was a repayment for a favor. I uh, did a thing and they owed me and... Yeah..." he laughed, taking a step back. Gat's gaze fell on him, eyes narrowing. He looked very much like he wanted to flee... and that felt for some reason wrong. 

" _Oh, I'd call us the smart ones!_ " "Justice?" he asked carefully. The male froze up, then giggled like he was oddly relieved but even more anxious. "...I thought you were... Dead. We all did. We thought we put you to rest." he stated, staring at the obviously uncomfortable young male.

"Uh, well... I didn't. Die, that is. ...Sibrand had a feeling things would go south, so he set us up with this funny capsule thingy. We bite it, and we get knocked out. Like we're dead. ...Except it only works if you aren't actually dead... and... Well..." his face fell. He looked like he was about to cry. "...I don't wanna talk about it... The fact of the matter is, Lieutenant-- That's not your title anymore. Right. ...Gat. This place is a sack of cats and then some. It's going all to hell and it's go big or go home. So, I went for as big as I could." And suddenly the letter clicked. Justin had sent it. Of course. "...I'm sorry I had to use so much deceit. But it was well warranted."

Lawless cleared his throat. "We can have a reunion back and my base. The cops are bound to show up, and with them O.A.G.V. And no one wants to be around for that." he stated, nodding to the cars. They piled into the black trucks and drove off deeper into the city. The whole lot of them were taken to a high-rise, and they were brought to the new Head Quarters. It was sleek and new. Kinzie almost didn't mind the fact that her stuff had been blown up less than a half-hour ago.

They moved to get set up in the space Lawless had cleared for them. The soldier then left them. Gat settled in at the new desk, staring out the window before him. He bit his lip, feeling like something was bothering him. Besides the fact that the base getting blown up casually let Lawless snatch them up sooner than expected. Maybe it was the fact that his letter had been a lie. That he was stupid for having gotten his hopes up.

A letter was slipped onto his desk and he looked over to Dane who only shook his head and shrugged. He took it, opening it up. He pulled out the letter, then inhaled sharply, looking over to Justin who looked none the wiser.

' _Dear Leader of The Saints Gat,_

_Fancy title. I like it. Not as nice as Lieutenant, but I think I can get over it._

_Fact of the matter is, the bomb wasn't a mistake. You're being targeted. Someone was thought to be someone they're not. Someone knew I was still alive. They want to draw me out... and they'll stop at nothing to get me out of the shadows. I don't know who they are, or why. But I'll try and keep you updated._ '

Nothing more, nothing less. He rubbed at his jaw, wondering exactly how many layers this convoluted plot had. He settled into his chair, steepling his hands. Certainly more than he was comfortable with. There was someone hunting him to get to Kent... And he feared for whoever got caught in the middle of this shadow war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, there are situations you cannot control. That you cannot deal with. And sometimes, you just have to go with the flow.


	4. I Can't Help This Awful Energy (pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Madman knows what the Madman Knows.

The wall of faces had more X's. The Jester's smile was showing teeth. Beside him, a Harlequin and a Joker stood, complete mirror opposites. The first, a woman in black and red suit and wearing a mask of a frown folded her arms behind her back. "Everything is moving as planned. The family will follow us, and we have fans gathering." she informed, then tilted her head to her smiling, white and blue companion. "Similar reports have been given by those patchworked soldiers and the men in black." she added, getting a frantic nodding from the man in black.

The Jester slowly nodded, then looked to his board. His smile twisted to a dark smirk and he grabbed the photo of Justin. He ripped in into itty pieces. Still, he tapped the dagger. "...The Lieutenant will lead us to him. I know it. He has to."

"Sir?" The man cleared his throat. "Uh, the O.A.V.G.? It's proving more troublesome than we thought. Even with our Ace's aid, we're still looking at a struggle during take-over."

"That's fine, that's fine. Bother me when it's an actual issue. Now, LEAVE ME! And next time you two get your men to do their job RIGHT, or else I'll have to make an example."

The two shuddered, then nodded, turning in sync and walking out of the room, leaving out separate doors.

The man looked back to the board, eyes scouring the lines of string that now crossed it. He tugged a red one connected to Johnny's, frowning. "...Where are you.... and what are you up to?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another small one, but it's furthering things quicker than you'd think.


	5. You Will Not End Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Attempt is made.

The figure waited on the rooftop, holding the gun carefully. The aim was carefully trained on the sleeping male at the desk. They leaned in, finger squeezing the trigger. Before they could, they were jerked back by a force stronger than they could match, head jerked so suddenly and violently they couldn't react in time before they were slumping, eyes rolling back. The other carefully gathered the gun and body and dragged them away to dispose of them.

* * *

There was a bomb on the door which the figure carefully clipped the wires to. They then removed the bomb safely, using a cloth to wipe any trace of it or their presence away. They held the bomb close to them-self as they quickly hurried out a secret exit they had made for them-self.

* * *

The figure grumbled as they pulled another bunch of corpses to a dumpster behind the building. They glared down at them before slamming the lid. They then grabbed their paper and pen- grimacing at the blood splatters on it- and scrawling out a quick message.

* * *

Johnny returned to his desk to find a crimson-splashed parchment on his desk. It looked like an ancient receipt that had been through a washer, then a murder victim, before ending up on his desk. The words were quickly scrawled out.

' _Dear Leader of The Saints Gat,_

 _It's me. Again. I found a lead.... Erm, as you might be able to tell. I'm going after the perpetrator. But keep an eye on Justice. I have a feeling he's in danger._ '

He slipped it away with the others in his drawer. He then pulled up his browser, typing up a few searches in google. Still nothing on Fate. Not even a whiff. Still, it seemed someone knew of him and was utilizing his existence for unknown purposes.... supposedly to keep Johnny safe. Which sure as hell matched the regular MO of the crazy man in a tin can helm. Before he could do much else, however, he found a little message popping up on his screen. A Skype notification from 'Justice for Destiny' popped up. He was being called. He pressed answer.

" _Gat? ...It's Justin. ...I found the lair of the Jester. Look, uh, I'm in a really tight situation._ " he gave him the address before continuing. " _Someone wants me dead. I've had at least three attempts on my life. It was somewhat covered up, but somewhat sloppily. I'm guessing by someone busy with other potential murders._ " Gat made sure his computer recorded the whole thing, and was pleased to catch a bit of a voice in the background. It sent shivers up his spine, but he knew. It was the Jester. And now he had a voice to use to find a face.

He hung up, dispatching the team and heading downstairs while having Kinzie use her tech skills to find out who he was. Before they could hope for a name, though, they had pulled up to the address. Gat grabbed his weapons and headed in. He could see few cars outside the building and hoped that meant few people to have to dispatch.

He headed into the office building with Dane, Angel, and Rosalina at his side. They arrived at a main meeting area. There was a figure tied to a chair, slightly struggling. Johnny headed over, then stopped, recoiling a bit. Justin was dead. Dead as a doorstop. Eyes gouged out, mouth stitched together. He seemed rather long dead. Too long for the skype call. A trap. He turned as a figure landed on the table, holding Dane hostage with a smirk. Then he leapt back, bringing the businessman with him. He made sure to bring his back down onto the table as he landed. A sickening crunch from the force and then his head was being jerked and body left on the floor.

He raised his gun, then inhaled sharply. Figures came out of the shadows from the offices behind them. Even Rosalina slumped slightly. The numbers were way too many. It reminded him of the hopeless gunfight in the prison. Jester cackled, pointing his glass sword at the three survivors. He rushed forwards along with a few main members at the front. The man in blue and white, a woman in black with white highlights and gold trimming her armoured joker outfit.

Rosalina parried the blue and white male while Angel feinted and threw the woman in armour. Jester himself dodged the bullets shot at him, and got close enough to stab Johnny in the gut. The pain was sharp, sudden, and biting. Rosalina opened her Parasol, pushing the attacker back. Angel was being punched into a wall. Things looked back. Almost hopeless. Then the dagger was removed, and the Jester raised his blade to strike the final blow on the Leader of the Saints.


End file.
